


Sometimes Bad Guys Are The Only Good Guys You Get

by mollyscribbles



Category: Carmen Sandiego (Cartoon 2019)
Genre: F/F, but I have this idea I want to write and I'm gonna write it, look I know it's gonna be jossed very quickly, so consider it an AU from s3, stealth leverage crossover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:15:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28476036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mollyscribbles/pseuds/mollyscribbles
Summary: Julia gets her dream job.  It doesn't go as planned.
Relationships: Julia "Jules" Argent & Chase Devineaux, Julia "Jules" Argent/Carmen Sandiego | Black Sheep
Comments: 10
Kudos: 116





	1. The University Job

**Oxford University**

**December 3rd**

Julia frowned at her screen and tried to focus; these lectures needed her attention. She knew, objectively, that this career change had been the only choice she really had. Had she continued with ACME, she was certain that -- one way or another -- it would have ended quite badly. She reviewed her previous page and made some minor changes. "Mind on task!" she reprimanded herself, "Don't dwell on the past when your future is stretching out ahead of you."

The human mind being what it was, thinking about not dwelling had the opposite result.

Chief had assumed Agent Devineaux was the source of her problems at ACME, but she'd found him to be much easier to work with after his return to the field.

* * *

**ACME HQ**

**October 1st**

"I am sorry." Agent Devineaux held out a slightly dented pastry box to her with an apologetic smile. Julia took the box, confusion evident on her face. "I have intended to say this since . . . some time before my kidnapping, but this is the first we have spoken since the incident. When I was first assigned to train you, I had reached a point in my career at Interpol that it was merely a matter of time before I would be reassigned to desk duty. I felt that I must prove that I was still capable of handling field work, of apprehending criminals on my own, to show that I could continue doing what I loved. To face this unwelcome concept, then to be asked to train a new recruit, particularly one with such potential?" He sighed, "I was rude and insecure. I have gotten as far as I have by being willing to put in the footwork, trust my instincts, and notice things that do not fit a pattern. Your ability to pay attention to boring details is one I do not possess."

Julia took the box and considered this a moment before responding. He seemed sincere, and likely had rehearsed the speech. "I accept your apology. You should know you have earned your position here, and I hope you are able to continue in the field with ACME as long as you wish. I read the report on your discovery; the rescue chopper pilot said the ruins of VILE's base were clearly visible from above, and the dive teams we've sent have brought back unquestionable evidence of their presence there. You should be proud of such an impressive breakthrough, especially working with your limited resources."

Julia smiled sadly as she took a napoleon from the box. The logo was of a bakery near Interpol's Poitiers office, one popular among the staff. Chase had likely carried the box all the way from France. "It would _appear_ I also owe you an apology. It _seems_ your instincts regarding Ms. Sandiego were correct. ACME's new focus -" she couldn't bring herself to say it. Since the policy change, she hadn't felt free to voice her support of the superthief, but fell short of being able to say she wanted to catch her.

Agent Devineaux seemed to understand. "I heard. ACME does not believe in following your instincts, but I have done well relying on mine; however misguided they were, I will not fault you for trusting yours."

* * *

While she didn't doubt the sincerity of Devineaux' apology, he still had no attention for detail and soon resumed his dismissive comments. Despite this, she found him easier to work with than most of the agency. Agent Devineaux' odd respect of "La Femme Rouge" as an archrival to be taken down was preferable to Agent Zari dismissing her as another lowlife thief.

She'd tried to remain professional. Done her best to focus on the facts, to pinpoint clues that might help them put a stop to VILE's plans. But if she was being honest with herself, her resignation had been inevitable after the hacking of ACME's database. From facts alone, she should have questioned Carmen's motivations; should have concluded that the thief had lied to gain their trust, playing the long game to better undermine the only agency capable of tracking her down.

Instead, she'd begun to doubt ACME itself. Begun to wonder what exactly Carmen had uncovered, what had been vital enough for her to infiltrate their systems to learn. Whatever it had been -- and Chief had been insistent that the specific files accessed were irrelevant to her investigation -- remained a mystery that itched at the back of her mind.

Every new case, every lead on what Carmen Sandiego was up to, her first thought had been _"What is her true motive? It can't be as bad as it looks."_ Nothing could shake her trust in the scarlet superthief. Which is an unfortunate mindset to hold, if your job is to capture the thief in question. They had told her to be certain of her loyalty, but that certainty was the reason she had no choice but to leave.

The facts were becoming increasingly muddled with all the conflicting reports, but Julia saw one thing with crystal clarity: she couldn't work for an agency that refused to consider a criminal might have motivations more complex than the law allowed for, no matter the evidence that pointed in that direction. Which meant she also couldn't return to Interpol. Thus she was fortunate the opening at Oxford had presented itself.

"Focus, Julia. You've only managed a temporary lecturer posting as a trial basis, and you're lucky they were willing to take you on starting with Hilary term; you need to prove yourself if you want a permanent position. Oxford University only takes the best."

Possibly she should stop talking to herself in the office. She shared this one with several other lecturers, who were fortunately out at the moment, but it could get awkward if they walked in on her. Silent pep talks now!

Okay. She could do this. She sincerely looked forward to presenting her lectures to students who -- most likely, since they'd chosen an elective course -- would be interested in what she had to say. Her lectures on the Ea Nasir tablets and ancient Egyptian board games were ready, the one on pre-Columbian Inca goldsmithing could use a second opinion to make sure she wasn't overlooking something, and she still needed to do further research on Mary Anning for her final scheduled lecture.

The last was certainly more recent in history than she specialized (or less, depending on which aspect you looked at), but there had been strong hints that including a British woman of science would be well-received. Not that it was a struggle to study such a fascinating historical figure, only . . .

Maybe she just needed a break. She'd been sitting too long, that's all. Checking the time, she realized she had just enough time to get to the gym before the Mountaineering Club's biweekly meeting at the indoor climbing wall.

Julia bundled up against the winter chill, layering a scarf, gloves, black peacoat, and lined hat over her red sweater and black trousers, before grabbing her gym and laptop bags; it would save her the trouble of making a trip back to her office, and she could get some work done at home. It was a bit of a walk to the Sports Centre, but she generally felt like it was undermining the point of a workout to drive the short distance.

Joining the Mountaineering Club had been a good decision; she'd always wanted to gain the skills to climb the world's peaks. Not Everest, of course, but Mount Fujiyama and Kilimanjaro were on her bucket list. The club was also a good way to socialize with other faculty and students, to show that she was making a point of participating in the university's culture beyond the classroom setting. She spotted another club member headed in her direction and waved in greeting. "Anita! It's good to see we both managed to take a break in time for today's meetup."

The darker-skinned woman, a research fellow in Indian Art History, grinned over her scarf and waved back. "If I spend too long thinking about themes in Mughal painting, I start to either write with the assumption no one has even heard of the concept or that everyone already knows what I'm talking about. Breaks are needed to keep things coherent."

Julia laughed. "I know what you mean. After I spent too long on my Ea Nasir lecture, I started making margin notes in cuneiform. I'm not even sure of half of what I was trying to remind myself about. Change of subject -- the history of mountaineering, to ease us into the right mood for today's session."

The pair amicably discussed the history of the Ladies' Alpine Club until they reached the Sports Centre. "I think that's enough to shift our brains out of history mode. So, Julia, how are you adjusting to life on campus?"

Julia considered everything. "It's certainly different than working in law enforcement. Everyone has been so welcoming, but it's a change to do my historical research without it having an immediately practical application."

Anita frowned. "I feel like you don't mean that in the 'avoid the mistakes of the past' sense. How did you find immediate practical applications for historical research before? That's not really something most historians worry about."

Julia shrugged. She hadn't shared many details of her law enforcement career. "Recovering stolen artifacts, mainly. It was very satisfying, knowing that a priceless cultural treasure was returned safely to the museum it belonged in."

"I can only imagine. I bet there are curators out there who wish you'd never changed careers; it probably made a difference to them to have someone involved in the investigation who cared about the artifact itself beyond just trying to get a stolen item back," Anita said with an admiring smile.

They changed quickly to their workout gear before meeting up with the rest of the club. Julia smiled with determination and looked up at the bouldering wall; this was exactly what she needed.

* * *

An hour later, she was feeling a bit sore but much less restless; her racing thoughts quieted as she let the hot shower soak away her aches. Leaving the changing room after, she was surprised to see Anita waiting for her.

The other woman flushed slightly as she spoke, "Hey! I was hoping to catch you before you left. I've been waiting for the right time to ask, and . . . would you like to go out with me sometime?"

Julia was taken aback, and looked to the side as she replied, "I . . . can I have a rain check on that? I mean. You're very lovely and I enjoy spending time with you, but I'm still getting settled and want to spend more time on my lectures, if I want them to impress the administration enough to convince them to let me stay."

Anita nodded, but looked a tad dejected, "Sure. No pressure. Can't blame a girl for trying. I'll see you around campus, Julia."

Julia watched her friend leave and tried to analyze her feelings as she layered up against the winter chill (hopefully her hair had dried enough to keep it from freezing). Everything she said was true, and a crush on a woman she didn't even have contact information for shouldn't keep her from dating. Really. Anita was a wonderful person, easy to talk to, and anyone would consider her a catch. But Julia wasn't sure if she wanted to date her.

It had been some time since she'd been on a real date; when she was with ACME -- and Interpol before -- she'd been too focused on her career to get out and meet people. Not to mention, it wouldn't be fair to her partner if an assignment had taken her out of the country at the last minute, missing their date.

She braced herself against the wind and decided to walk to one of her favourite nearby takeout spots before returning to her apartment; a Thai curry would be perfect tonight.

* * *

Julia hung her outerwear to dry and carried the takeout bag to the kitchenette in the corner of her apartment. Travelling frequently for work had left her eating takeout from the container more often than she'd have liked, so she enjoyed the feeling of eating with a real plate and metal utensils when she could. Even if it was still takeout, it felt more civilized.

After dinner, she made herself a cup of tea and put on some music. Earl grey always helped to keep her in 'work mode' while still being more relaxed than the coffee she drank at the office, and the instrumental music helped her focus.

Her apartment had come furnished; the furniture was a bit worn and impersonal, but practical enough. Most of her belongings were still in storage in France, but she'd brought a few boxes of her favourite books, her wardrobe, and personal effects. The few decorations she'd brought did help it feel more like home. The replica of a Greek vase depicting a woman reading she'd gotten from a museum gift shop when she was twelve, the first time she'd felt that deep thrill at the idea of being able to touch a piece of history, never failed to bring a smile to her face. A print of Edvard Munch's The Dance of Life brightened up the small room. There was a twinge of guilt as she moved past the boxes she had yet to unpack. She'd get to them eventually.

She looked over her bookshelf; she knew she'd already unpacked the one she wanted, but she'd been tired at the time and hadn't bothered to organize the shelf. She ran her fingers over the familiar titles -- the Moonstone, its leather cover worn smooth from years of rereads, the Scarlet Pimpernel, several Leslie Charteris novels that were always comfort reads, a copy of Emily Wilson's translation of the Odyssey she'd picked up on her last visit to Waterstone's, a number of textbooks on the history of the Inca, Maya, Egyptians, Greeks, and Romans, before finally getting to the biography of Mary Anning she'd had in mind. The temptation to reread an old favourite was hard to shake, but this would give her useful background detail for her lecture.

Her reading corner was inviting; the worn chair had a comfortable throw on it, perfect for fending off the winter chill. A lamp, perfectly positioned over her shoulder. The small table was just the right size to hold her four-colour pen, moleskine, and tea. Work mode on, time to do some research.

Two pages of careful notes later, she caught herself doodling a familiar face in the margins. Realizing she even switched to red to detail the hat, she slipped a bookmark in to save her place. Finally giving in to curiosity, she searched on her phone for recent news stories about Carmen Sandiego.

It might have been easier, if she'd simply set it to alert her when there was something new, but she knew that doing that would mean admitting to something she wasn't quite ready for. She was no longer in law enforcement; it wasn't her job to keep tabs on a specific criminal's latest actions. To make it a priority, something that could draw her focus from the job she had . . .

No. She was lucky to have this job. She had to make it a priority to prove she was here for the long run. To herself, and everyone else.

A soft chuckle escaped her as she found the same result as she had for the past few weeks. There were no articles since the one on her escape in London on November 6. She'd been worried about nothing. Since her phone was out anyway, she checked for anything on Nigel Braithwaite; also nothing. Julia wasn't sure why Carmen had wanted to point law enforcement in his direction; she'd never tried to frame anyone for her crimes before. Seeing the news footage of the former deputy director fencing with what she was certain was one of Devineaux' kidnappers had made her believe he was involved in _something_. It was times like these -- fleeting moments -- that Julia wished she was still with ACME, if only to know she had access to all the available information.

It was silly to fantasize about joining Carmen's team. Even if the other woman had been willing to work with her on prior occasions, it wasn't the same as wanting her to do more than help with the occasional task and deliver the recovered items to their rightful place. What would she even do, if she did join them?

A memory came to her from her time at Interpol, Agent Sterling relating the story of a team of criminals he'd chased nearly ten years ago. The older agent had grinned while describing how they'd eluded capture while stealing from those who were, technically if not morally, within the law. She pulled out her laptop and, VPN securing her connection, logged into the account Interpol had set up for new recruits who needed to access files but didn't have their personal account authorized yet. She knew her old account hadn't worked since her transfer to ACME, but this one was apparently still in use, and the password hadn't changed since long before Julia's time.

She spent hours absorbing every detail she could, fascinated by the stories and curious about the details Sterling was clearly leaving out. Even the report on their deaths was written with the tone of someone who knew how a magic trick had been done but didn't want to reveal the secret.

"Maybe I could do something with logistics. Background research, so the others could have more time to focus on other things." Logistics was a safe word; she could handle that. "Mastermind" was an intimidating word to aspire to, even in a daydream. She shook her head, logged out of the account, and closed her laptop. She shouldn't be wasting time planning for a life she would likely never see, not when she had so much right in front of her.

Julia's life was full. She had a job in a field she loved that could easily lead to a lifelong career, hobbies she enjoyed, and enough free time to absorb the local culture. She had acquaintances who could easily become good friends and could consider dating once she felt a bit more settled -- all things she'd wanted, all things she hadn't been able to fit into her previous life. A year ago, she would have considered this her ideal life.

So why did she still feel her heart was elsewhere?

* * *

**San Diego**

**December 3**

Ivy did her best to appear focused on the maintenance she was doing on Carmen's grappler -- things would go south fast if it jammed while she was in a tight spot -- but her attention was on Carmen. Her friend was looking over the grocery list, double-checking a recipe held to the fridge with a magnet and the current fridge inventory.

"Anyone have something they want me to grab while I'm out? We've been in town long enough to need a supply run."

"Oooh! Can you grab a pack of those Peppermint Bark Oreos?" Zack asked. "I heard they're awesome."

"Rice Krispies and marshmallows," Ivy added. "You're trying to get the hang of cooking, I figure I should teach you the first thing I learned how to make."

Shadowsan looked up from his reading. "Leeks and tofu. My motivations are similar, and you have always enjoyed my miso soup."

Carmen dutifully added all of these to the list. "Got it. It's nice to have a little down time while VILE regroups. I'll be back in a bit." She grabbed her purse, coat, and reusable bags for the store and headed out.

As soon as the door had closed, Ivy set down her work, got Player on speakerphone, and called out "Family meeting! I wanna get everyone on the same page for my plan for Carmen's gift."

Zack gave a relieved sigh, "Oh good! I'd been having trouble thinking of something. I guess I'm still not used to having, y'know, a real gift budget."

Ivy grinned, "Same, bro, but I gave this one my all. Carm is worth it."

Shadowsan said, "I have already obtained my gift for her."

Over speakerphone, Player added, "Same. Better to order early and avoid the holiday rush."

Ivy's face fell. She didn't think she could pull this off with just her and Zack.

"She needed a proper winter coat," Shadowsan said, defensively. "Her usual choice is inadequate for colder climates." He paused, apparently deciding Carmen would likely appreciate something less practical in addition to his gift, and added "But I will help you with your idea as well."

"And I'm always in to get Red something special."

Ivy's grin returned, now that everyone was on board. "I've been thinking, Carm doesn't really have . . . well, any stuff, so on the one hand she's really easy to shop for because you know she wouldn't already have something, and on the other that means she doesn't have the sort of stuff that makes you think she'd want something else, like a collection. But I realized, she does collect things in a way -- she just doesn't keep them. So I'm thinking we could get her stuff she _could_ keep. Things that remind her about all the good she's done."

Ivy paused. "She can be hard to read, though, so if I've totally guessed wrong, maybe she'll dislike it in a way that at least lets us know what she does want."

* * *

The only thing Carmen wanted, at that very moment, was some baklava. The store's bakery had just set out a fresh batch, and it smelled tempting. Figuring that if her attempt at making dinner went badly, she'd at least be able to give her crew a good desert, she added a box to her cart.

She felt oddly proud of having finally gotten the hang of grocery shopping. A lifetime on an island with no stores followed by years spent living in hotels and planes didn't really prepare her for all the odd rules of navigating a supermarket. She'd picked up the odd local delicacy that didn't require preparation from most of the countries she'd been to, but it was different than shopping to stock a pantry and planning for meals to make. Zack and Ivy had to tutor her before she'd figured out how to pick good produce and look for items on sale. Not that she had to worry about a budget, but they felt it was good to teach her about it.

Comparing her list to the items in her cart before moving to the next section, Carmen checked them off. Bok choy, leeks, local oranges and cranberries, done. The three different kinds of requested bread, done. She hoped they're in town long enough to eat everything before it went bad. Scanning over the remaining items, she noticed the list seemed longer than usual. Most of it in Ivy's handwriting. Maybe Ivy had more meal prep sessions planned, or . . .

Her mind drifted. When your usual problem-solving approach means trying to out-plan security systems, it's hard for an everyday grocery trip to hold your attention.

VILE had been keeping quiet for the past month; if they were up to anything, they were keeping the chatter quiet. There had been a few false leads on her mother, but nothing solid. And nothing urgent. She wouldn't admit that to the others, but it was more the mystery of it and the idea of a mother that she was pursuing rather than feeling a real attachment to a woman she's never met and knows nothing about.

Outside her team, there were few she could trust and no one who stayed in her life.

Being constantly on the move didn't help her make connections, she knew, but even when they'd gotten the HQ she hadn't tried to reach out to neighbours or anything.

The only connection she'd really made in years was Jules. The woman who'd smiled at her and spoken of her love for history, who'd helped at every opportunity, who Carmen trusted to return any artifact to where it belonged.

Even that first time, knowing next to nothing about the other woman, Carmen knew the Magna Cartas were safe in her hands. It was just saving herself the return trip, she'd convinced herself at the time, but Jules proved willing to work with her time and again.

She had no trust in ACME -- hard to trust an organization with a "sedate first, ask questions later" approach like that -- but she trusted Jules.

It was hard not to worry about the fact that she hadn't seen the only competent ACME agent in some time; Devineaux had been out for months, apparently only recently recovered from his kidnapping. If VILE had taken Jules --

No. They'd used Devineaux as bait, there's no way they would have worked to keep Carmen in the dark if they were setting another trap.

Would it be weird if she asked Player to use the ACME backdoor to check on her? Probably. It was probably nothing.

She hoped Jules was doing well, wherever she was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I spent far too long overthinking some things, a few notes:  
> Agent Sterling of Interpol and the thieves he investigated are from [Leverage](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leverage_\(TV_series\)), an excellent show for anyone who wants to see more chaotic good heist teams.  
> Other titles on Julia's bookshelf include: An Anglo-American Alliance, Frankenstein, Carmilla, Oscar Wilde, The Fabric of Civilization: How Textiles Made the World, and Arsène Lupin in the original French  
> [the Moonstone](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Moonstone): Early detective novel. Plot centres on a stolen cultural artifact that, in the end, is returned to the temple it was stolen from.  
> [the Scarlet Pimpernel](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Scarlet_Pimpernel): First superhero story with an apt name  
> [An Anglo-American Alliance](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/An_Anglo-American_Alliance): The first lesbian sci-fi romance  
> [Frankenstein](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frankenstein): No way would she ignore Mary Shelley.  
> [ Carmilla](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carmilla): lesbian vampire  
> [Arsène Lupin](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ars%C3%A8ne_Lupin): OG gentleman thief  
> [Leslie Charteris](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leslie_Charteris): British-Chinese author, also with a gentleman thief hero, this time with a girlfriend who was surprisingly competent for the era.  
> [Mary Anning](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mary_Anning): Made groundbreaking paleontological discoveries in the 19th century, most of the credit at the time going to the men who bought them from her  
> [Julia's vase](https://www.britishmuseum.org/collection/object/G_1885-1213-18)  
> [The Dance of Life](https://www.edvardmunch.org/the-dance-of-life.jsp)  
> [Julia's mug ](https://www.etsy.com/ca/listing/862450689/anthropology-ritualistic-purpose-coffee)  
> Because I overthink things, please assume this is set in an alternate universe where no one needs to worry about breaking a leg when jumping off a building(or from a moving vehicle) if they have at least a little training, museum gift shops have better selection than they might in our world, there's no pandemic to mess with travel-heavy plots, and getting a temporary lecturer position at Oxford is relatively easy (at least for Julia).


	2. The Seashell Seller Caper

**Castle VILE**

**December 4**

Le Chèvre glanced around the lab with some trepidation; most likely, Dr. Bellum simply had a new assignment for him, but being given assignments in person always made him wary. Even if he hadn't done anything to fear punishment for, the scientist did have a history of surprise tests of her new equipment.

Dr. Bellum was focused on one of the room's many screens, and didn't seem to have noticed his entrance. The screen wasn't visible from this angle, but Le Chèvre thought he saw the reflection of a cat in her goggles. He cleared his throat.

"What? Oh, Le Chèvre, always a pleasure. I have a new assignment for you," she said with a grin. She tapped something, then turned the screen to show him an image of a fossil. "An ichthyosaur uncovered by Mary Anning herself! Not as useful as a soft tissue sample might be, but still a fine trophy."

Still a tad wary, Le Chèvre decided it was safer to ask, "So you wish for it to be intact? No grinding it down for gravel or something?"

The scientist looked horrified. "Of course not! Why would -- this is about Maelstrom's foolish plan for the doubloon, isn't it."

Le Chèvre nodded and said, "It is certainly not my place to question the Faculty, but --"

She laughed. "I've got the freedom, and I certainly questioned it. Honestly, how would you have planned a theft if the goal was to get a pair of solid gold cufflinks?"

"Rob a jeweler in the next city I had an assignment in. It wouldn't even require a separate trip. Either that or steal a bar of gold, if he really wished to make his own."

"Exactly! It was an inefficient use of resources." She paused, something occurring to her. "Come to think of it, we should have informed all operatives before, but Maelstrom isn't allowed to pick missions without at least one other faculty member seconding his decision, after that incident."

Reassured to have that clarification, Le Chèvre nodded toward the screen. "Back to the mission, the goal for this is -"

"I thought it would look splendid on my wall. Like an old cabinet of curiosities. We're still settling in, and I may as well redecorate a bit." She tipped back her chair, beginning to reminisce, "When I was young, I read a book on female scientists, and found Mary Anning's story very inspiring. Though the intended message was likely not that, if I wouldn't be getting proper credit for my achievements anyway, I might as well be a criminal working from the shadows, it was still inspirational."

She paused again, something else coming to mind. "While you're there, could you pick up a pair of solid gold cufflinks? I drew Maelstrom's name for the Faculty gift exchange and at least this way I know it's something he wanted."

"Certainly. Uh, am I to leave tomorrow? Only, tonight is -"

Dr. Bellum slapped her forehead. "Ah. The mandatory party. Cleo thought a celebration would help boost morale after the recent unpleasantness and make the castle feel more like home, and Brunt decided the team-building exercises and mandatory attendance would encourage loyalty." She sighed, somewhat resigned. "At least the refreshments should be enticing."

"I shall make my plans for tomorrow night, then! It should go fairly quickly, there isn't even a lengthy commute to get there. Am I to inform El Topo of the mission, or shall he be getting a separate set of orders?" Either option was fairly common, though the latter generally fed paranoia.

"You'll be working with Mime Bomb, this time. Don't look at me like that, it's part of Brunt's team-building idea that we should mix up the assignments a bit."

Knowing better than to protest, Le Chèvre only said "Understood. Will that be all?" He wasn't pleased about being assigned away from his boyfriend, but this did allow him the opportunity to pick something up when he wasn't around.

To his relief, Dr Bellum simply waved him out, apparently wanting to get back to her cat videos. He needed to make good use of his time; there was a theft of his own to plan.

* * *

**Oxford University**

**December 4**

Julia made time that morning to use the sports centre treadmills before returning to the office; she tried to maintain a routine, to balance out having a job that kept her seated most of the day. One of Devineaux' more reasonable pieces of advice, when they'd first started working together, had been to keep up with a regular endurance workout. She couldn't deny that his dedication to his own routine made him stand out among ACME agents who seemed more interested in looking intimidating and waiting for a suspect to run past them.

In retrospect, their poor track record in apprehending suspects wasn't that surprising.

The Museum of Natural History's exhibit on Mary Anning was currently undergoing renovations, and the room was closed to the public, so Julia needed to obtain special permission to access the materials. Had she not spent time in law enforcement, the red tape might be annoying, but as it was she tended to feel more annoyance if security measures surrounding priceless artifacts were on the lax side.

Arriving at her office right on schedule, she neatly hung her things to dry before getting to work. The museum staff must have gotten to work early, as the confirmation of her access time had just arrived. It wasn't until late the next day, so it looked like today would be spent adding in the details she'd researched last night. She was making good progress when a knock at the door interrupted her train of thought. Saving the document, she went to answer. Hopefully she didn't just need to take a message for one of the others who used the office.

To her surprise, waiting outside her office was -- "Agent Devineaux?"

Her former co-worker looked at her with an expression she couldn't quite identify. "Ag- Ms. Argent, I need your advice on a matter of some importance."

Julia gave an annoyed sigh. He'd rarely asked her advice when they worked together, and generally ignored that advice when she gave it. "I no longer work for ACME. Unless you have a question you might consult any civilian historian about, give me one good reason why I should take my attention away from my actual job."

Devineaux looked contrite, and considered the matter for a moment. "I can fill you in on the intelligence regarding Carmen Sandiego's activities since your departure?"

Well. It seemed he did have some sense. She closed her laptop and reached for her coat. "I can take an early lunch. There's a place nearby where we can speak. Their coffee is better than the ACME break room provides."

* * *

The Missing Bean was an exemplary coffee shop, and Julia liked to indulge after years of subpar office coffee. She ordered a peppermint mocha with her turkey sandwich, while Devineaux simply chose his usual black coffee with three sugars and the soup of the day.

They'd arrived ahead of the lunch rush, so were able to easily find a table off to the side, where there was little worry of being overheard. "I suppose I should ask what was so vital that you needed to pay a visit to consult me."

Devineaux took a sip of his coffee, then stared at his cup for an introspective moment, before looking up in defeat. "You were right."Julia remained quiet, not entirely sure how to tactfully ask him if he meant about the coffee or a number of other points in their past, but tilted her head in a silent question.

"About many things. But specifically, Ms. Sandiego."

True to his word, he provided an account of Carmen's activities since she'd left -- stolen paintings returned in Mexico City, a charity gala in New Orleans whose founder credited Carmen with ensuring the money made it to the cause, and an international collection of masks taken in Venice. Julia ate while he spoke, but kept her full attention on his words.

His face lit up with excitement as he described his pursuit. "I spotted her boat passing under the bridge I was on and leaped in at precisely the right moment! I was closer than I have ever been to capturing her. And then -" Devineaux' face fell. "She told me to be careful with the masks, gave advice on upgrading the security, and left. She . . . she said you would understand."

Julia went still. "You believe she was only stealing the masks in order to protect them?"

Devineaux nodded. "Local authorities apprehended another suspect in possession of an identical crate, this one filled with cheap souvenir replicas of the masks. I suspect she deceived him in order to ensure the safety of the real ones."

This caught Julia's attention. "A possible tie to VILE was successfully apprehended?"

He frowned. "For under one hour. Released without explanation."

She recognized the scenario. "With no evidence of a name or fingerprints, if they were taken to begin with, and an uncertainty regarding who approved the release, though the paperwork was all in order?"

"Precisely the same as the witness in France. Who, by the way, ACME has located. An Australian by the name of Graham Crawford."

Now that was something. "What did he say, about the incident on the train?"

"He has no memory of ever leaving Oceania, let alone travelling to France. The man claims to have lost over a year's worth of memories, and his medical records appear to support this." He began to eat his soup morosely. "Agent Zari assumes he is merely lying, but I know from personal experience that VILE is capable of wreaking havoc on a mind. I know now my instincts may not be the best, but he strikes me as being sincerely baffled by the questions."

"She does tend to have a poor opinion of suspects," Julia said noncommittally.

"I had to turn to you, as I know no one within ACME would even consider the thought -- do you believe Carmen Sandiego is trustworthy?"

Julia sipped her coffee, delaying her answer a moment before deciding to risk it. "What would you think if I said that I have more faith in Carmen than in law enforcement?"

Chase grinned. "I would think you have excellent instincts. It is clear that VILE has stretched its tendrils within many branches of the law, and I am beginning to suspect that may have included the former deputy director of MI6."

"I'd wondered what the papers were leaving out of their reports on him. Are there any solid leads there?"

"None. Chief believes Carmen Sandiego allowed herself to be apprehended as a diversion while Braithwaite stole St. Edward's Crown. But I witnessed her glider departing from the office where the crown was recovered, and on no prior occasion has she left stolen treasures in a way that implicated another's guilt. Had he remained in custody to answer questions, I might have taken his account into consideration, but vanishing from custody is quite suspect."

He stared out the window a minute, introspective. "I still need your advice on a vital matter . . . how can I continue on in my work, now that I know La Femme Rouge can be trusted?"

Julia sipped her coffee. "That is something only you can answer for yourself. I found that I couldn't, and I don't regret my decision. If you would rather avoid a career change, take my experience as an example of what not to do. Don't voice your support around those you know won't listen."

Chase nodded, apparently making a decision. His lunch finished, he popped a piece of mint-flavoured nicotine gum in his mouth. He glanced at the package with annoyance. "I do not regret quitting smoking, but there are times when mints don't help the cravings."

"I remember how hard it was for my father when he quit. You should take pride in your recovery." She felt more generous with her compliments, now that her former partner had finally seen the light.

"I still wish to put a stop to VILE's actions, so I believe my place remains with ACME, even if yours is not. To be perfectly honest, Chief asked me to meet with you today to determine if there was a risk you were leaving to join Carmen Sandiego's team."

Julia gave him a sad smile. "The only job offer I've gotten was from Oxford. What will you tell her we discussed today?"

"You spoke of your work. I never pay attention when you go on about dull facts and boring details."

Julia laughed, the first Devineaux had ever gotten out of her. "I suppose that's plausible enough."

He looked at her, considering, before saying "She asked about you, in New Orleans." He smirked at her silent question. "Miss Sandiego. She wanted to know where you were. I suspect she regrets your career change more than I do."

He stood to leave. "I suppose I have taken up enough of your time. I wish you well, Ms. Argent."

"I wish you luck with your work, Agent Devineaux," she said with a smile.

* * *

**Oxford University**

**December 5**

Julia gave herself a mental shake and double-checked that she had her notes on hand. She really needed to stop giving a second glance at every woman in red who appeared in her peripheral vision. Getting access like this was a good strategic move for her career, not just to add detail to her lecture. It demonstrated that she was willing to consider all available resources, wasn't letting minor barriers stop her from pursuing a lead, but was still going to follow the correct procedure to access the materials. She needed to take it seriously and make it her focus.

Really, what were the odds she'd run into Carmen Sandiego at Oxford?

* * *

"Oxford University is the oldest university in the English-speaking world, and there's evidence of people teaching there since 1066. It's home to more than one museum, but it looks like the Oxford University Museum of Natural History is VILE's target tonight," Player reported to Carmen over her comm-link. "VILE chatter indicates they're going after an ichthyosaur uncovered by Mary Anning, who was a paleontologist back in the 19th century. The scientific community wouldn't give her much credit for her work back then, but that didn't stop her from making groundbreaking discoveries."

"It just goes to show that you can't stop a woman who's determined to do her job, Player," Carmen said as she walked through the museum's dinosaur gallery.

"She did get some recognition at the time, though -- the tongue twister 'She sells sea shells by the sea shore' was written about her!"

Carmen laughed as she took careful note of the surveillance system. "I wonder -- even if I never get proper credit for what I'm doing, maybe there'll be a poem about me someday."

"You'll make the history books one day, Red, even if we have to write them ourselves."

Spotting the side room indicated on the building diagrams she'd gone over earlier, Carmen leaned against the wall and made a show of looking over her guidebook as she slipped her lipstick flash drive into the security box by the door. A few seconds later, she heard the door unlock and she slipped in.

"One thing I came across while going through the Oxford security files -- there's a chance you might run into --"

"Jules."

Carmen smiled, mission momentarily forgotten. She'd been wondering where her favourite ACME agent had gone. "I take it ACME arrived ahead of me, for once?" She was wearing a red sweater instead of the ACME suit she generally wore -- probably undercover -- and Carmen's appearance had clearly caught her off guard.

Julia set down her notes and brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, suddenly self-conscious. "Not at all. I've actually changed careers, since our last encounter, and I'm here because of my position in Oxford's history department."

Her face went still, apparently remembering their last encounter. "I apologize for ACME's actions in Stockholm. I had argued that we should trust you and requested an opportunity to speak with you alone, but they chose to ambush you instead. Please know, I had nothing to do with that decision."

Carmen shivered in memory of her time in the snow; it wasn't a pleasant experience, but -- "I believe you. You never really followed ACME's MO of shoot first, ask questions later." She paused a moment, realizing that the hacking might have made Julia look bad, after arguing that Carmen could be trusted. But she didn't seem to be upset about that. "Should I apologize for hacking ACME's database?"

Julia shook her head. "It's not as if I took it personally. Chief gave you good reason to distrust her, and I didn't stay with them for long after that. What brings you to Oxford?"

"Intel says that VILE's targeting this ichthyosaur," Carmen nodded toward the case the fossil was being kept in. "And I need to secure it before they get here. Can you help me with this one?"

Julia considered the matter. "I'm on good terms with museum security. If I were to tell them I had reason to believe someone was planning to steal it tonight, they could move it to a vault for safekeeping. If VILE didn't even know which vault it was in, it would take them ages to look through everything."

Carmen blinked. That was certainly more straightforward than she was used to. Less of a challenge, but there were other ways she'd like to spend the evening. "That works. While we wait, you can tell me about the fossil; I always like to learn the background of the things I've saved."

Her comm chirped, "Red, I already told you -" before Carmen reached up and turned it off. She could apologize to Player later, but there were some conversations she'd rather have a little privacy for.

* * *

Julia couldn't believe the woman was truly in front of her. Even in the museum's lighting, her bronze skin and pewter eyes looked like a work of art. She'd felt despairingly certain that, after leaving ACME, she'd never hear of Carmen again outside of what information was released to the public of her thefts. She contacted security, as planned, and soon the fossil was safely escorted to the vaults.

Carmen emerged from the closet where she'd hidden from museum security and sat next to her on the bench. "So fill me in, I want to hear everything."

Julia's heart fluttered. Even after a month of working with others who shared her love of history, it was thrilling to share her thoughts. She gave Carmen her entire lecture, using a few of the less targeted items in the room like the sketch Elizabeth Philpot made of the Ichthyosaur skull using fossilized belemnite ink as examples. She told her everything about Mary Anning, from the lightning strike she survived as a child to her tragic death. True to her word, Carmen paid close attention and asked insightful questions, leaving Julia making a few notes about points to clarify in her lecture.

After nearly an hour, Julia suddenly felt self-conscious. "That was probably more detail than you wanted. You likely didn't intend for me to take over the conversation like this, when you still have to prepare to confront VILE."

Carmen smirked. "Not at all. The fossil's secure, so all that's left for me to do now is wait, and I told you I wanted to hear everything. I wouldn't be able to do my job if I didn't know all the details. Besides, you present your points in a fascinating way and I can't imagine there's anything you could tell me about that I wouldn't find interesting."

Julia blushed. "That's about all I know about Mary Anning, but I can tell you about my other lectures as well? I'd love to have your input on a few points."

"I'm all ears."

Julia gave her the highlights from her lectures, covering everything from Peruvian goldwork to cuneiform tablets complaining of the wrong grade of copper.

It wasn't until much later when Julia finally wound down. She knew Carmen tended to keep things secret, but curiosity got the better of her and she decided to risk asking. "That's everything I've been researching lately. What have you been up to, if you're willing to share?"

"Not much lately, if I'm being honest. This is the first VILE scheme I've uncovered since the incident with the crown jewels. I've been reading a little, and learning to cook."

"Oh? Tell me about it."

Carmen related her recent attempts at cooking, and Julia shared her own stories of the awkward first meals she'd made after moving out on her own. The conversation flowed easily, and both soon forgot why they were waiting in the first place.

* * *

Le Chèvre spotted someone walking past the building and gave a hand signal to Mime Bomb to move for cover; one advantage of the silent partner was his ability to take nonverbal cues that others could overlook. Fortunately, it was just a student returning late from the library, who soon passed. The coast now clear, the pair returned to opening the side door. He signaled that Mime Bomb was to remain outside to use Bellum's device to monitor the external security cameras for Carmen Sandiego's arrival and secure his exit. The silent man gave a thumbs up in return. and did his best to appear as an eccentric student watching a video on his phone.

He moved quickly through the building; while he preferred taking the high ground, needing to access a single-level room on the main floor made this unnecessary. He allowed himself a smirk at making it to the target room without encountering any security or a signal from Mime Bomb's communicator.

It vanished, when he opened the door to find Carmen Sandiego had apparently arrived early enough to not only clear the display case but charm a museum employee as well. Knowing how this would likely go, he gave a defeated sigh, startling the pair. "Can we just say there was an epic battle where you emerged victorious and call it a night?"

Carmen stood, alert now, and suspicious. "Why?"

Le Chèvre gestured at the empty display case. "I do not know where you have moved the target, you are unlikely to tell me its current location, and I lack the time to search for it as I have another heist scheduled for tonight."

Carmen seemed to consider this a reasonable argument. "Wait, what's the second heist?"

Le Chèvre considered all he knew of his former classmate before speaking. "Robbing a jeweler. It was not specified which one, so I am fine choosing one that deals in blood diamonds. It would be . . . poetic."

She wasn't inclined to allow him to get away with a theft, but she was no fool. Letting Le Chèvre have a small win might ensure VILE kept sending him on missions instead of someone more inclined to harm bystanders. "When the staff is away, so no one gets hurt?"

"That is why I wish to get it done tonight."

"Fine, but as far as anyone knows you didn't let it slip about your second target."

"Agreed."

The museum employee spoke up, apparently familiar with the area. "Try Fowler's, it's two blocks over. They've considered the protests to be a form of advertising, and have a reputation for turning away customers who don't meet their standards."

He nodded his thanks. "Au revoir," he said before departing.

Better to end things now; he wanted the chance to pick up a ring for Antonio while he was at the jeweler, and would prefer to be able to take his time. He had given a lot of thought to the matter; wearing a ring with his digging gloves on could be a safety concern. Jean-Paul had learned leatherwork, before joining VILE, and could easily make a pouch on a cord that Antonio could wear under his suit to hold the ring.

He'd kept a piece of alexandrite from their time in Rio, after his partner had voiced his admiration of the colourful stone, and hoped to incorporate the cut piece in the final ring. There was the general assumption among operatives that VILE turned a blind eye to the occasional skimming, as he'd observed the Cleaners rounding down the number of boxes of gems they'd counted on their report, so he doubted there would be problems there.

Perhaps it would be simpler to incorporate if he made the ring himself. He knew Countess Cleo was skilled at forging jewelry pieces to replace authentic items with, and she would no doubt be capable of making something suitable.

If he moved quickly, there would be time to rob the Gold to be Sold store he'd spotted on his way through town; the remainder of that haul would help convince the Countess to assist him in making the ring.

* * *

"That went more smoothly than I expected," Carmen said, turning to Julia with a smile.

"I'm thankful we didn't need to worry about any other exhibits being damaged in the process. I know other museums haven't been as fortunate." Julia still remembered the paper that had somehow penetrated stone columns. That kind of damage could leave scars on a museum for centuries.

She was a bit let down, realizing that the end of the mission meant it was time for her and Carmen to part ways.

"Can I escort you home?" Carmen said, pulling on her coat. "He probably wasn't lying about going after the jewelry store, but I'd feel more comfortable knowing you got home safely."

"Of course," Julia said, smiling as she gathered her own things. She'd stretch the evening on as long as she could.

Carmen held out her arm, and Julia tucked her hand in the crook of her elbow. She was so elated at the contact, the walk to her apartment seemed to take no time at all. Reaching the door, she realized she wasn't ready to part ways just yet. "Would you like to come in for coffee?"

Carmen glanced around, apparently concluding there were no threats lurking in the shadows, and smiled. "I'd love a cup. Need to stay awake to catch my flight."

Julia busied herself preparing their drinks, thankful for the distraction, while Carmen looked around the small apartment. Fortunately, she'd left it tidy that morning.

"So Jules, what would you say your favourite part of history is?" said Carmen, as she glanced over the bookshelf.

Julia considered it a moment. There was so much about it that she loved. Finally she said, "The little details - the small things like the graffiti of Pompeii or the letters of complaint sent to Ea-Nasir; the things that make you see the people back then as people. You can't dismiss the big things like wars or leaders, because those will impact everything from food to the arts, but it's the little things that make you think about how normal people lived their lives back then."

They spoke for a few minutes as they drank their coffee, neither quite ready to part ways just yet. Finally, Carmen glanced at her watch with a sigh. "My flight's leaving in a couple hours, and I need time to get to the airport."

The idea of never hearing from Carmen again struck Julia with a sudden horror. The thief likely needed to limit herself to secure lines of communication, to avoid being caught, so Julia doubted she'd offer her number, but -- Julia quickly scribbled her own number on a piece of scrap paper, and tucked it inside her copy of the Moonstone. "Here. A thank-you gift, for all you've done. And if you ever need my help again, don't hesitate to call."

Carmen accepted it with an uncertain smile. "I don't have anything for you."

"You've left enough presents on my doorstep to more than make up for it."

She didn't say that she'd leave with her tonight, if she asked. She doubted Carmen wanted her slowing her down.

* * *

Carmen finally pushed herself to leave; she'd taken up enough of Julia's time, pulling her away from a job she loved -- she'd known from their first meeting that Julia would be happier if she were able to focus on history. Her work was dangerous, and no one would want to drop the chance to live a normal life to come with her. She shouldn't even consider asking.

She turned on her comm-link. "Player? Sorry about cutting you off, but the mission went smoothly. I'll fill you in on my way to the airport."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm as amazed as anyone that I managed to post this before the new season dropped.  
> [the Missing Bean](https://www.themissingbean.co.uk/) is an actual coffee shop in Oxford  
> [Mary Anning's icthyosaur ](https://oumnh.ox.ac.uk/mary-annings-ichthyosaur)  
> [Blood diamonds](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blood_diamond)  
> Fowler's is not an actual jeweller, as I figured it would be a bad idea to name an actual store for that one.  
> Gold to be Sold is from Leverage, the show mentioned in last chapter's end notes.  
> If you're interested, I've got a fic playlist on Spotify [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0mWHpB4NqA8E9CagFYUfEs).  
> Next: The Lima Syndrome Caper


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